


Teasing

by DirtyKnots



Series: Kinktober 2019 [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Father/Son Incest, Incest, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Object Insertion, Parent/Child Incest, Rimming, Teasing, Temperature Play, Under-negotiated Kink, Underage Sex, implied previous extremely underage, mild D/s themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 02:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20884898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyKnots/pseuds/DirtyKnots
Summary: Kinktober 2019: Day 3 - Edgeplay & Temperature PlayCuriousCat Anon Prompt: Would love to see more stuff involving the sheriff and stiles :o love your work!!!





	Teasing

Stiles crept quietly into his dad’s room, making sure to tiptoe around the spots of the floor that had a tendency to creak. It’s not like he expected his dad to stay asleep for much longer, but he wanted to be ready as soon as he woke up. Stiles had a plan for today, after all. He was pretty happy when he managed to slide the blanket back without waking John, even happier when he saw that it wouldn’t take much work at all for him to get his dad ready, John’s cock was already half hard and he’d forgone underwear when he went to bed. Stiles leaned over him carefully, mouth watering before he even got it around his dad’s cock, fighting back the happy moan that he wanted to let out. He started slow and easy, just warm wet sliding softly over the cock, waited until his dad started shifting around, beginning to rise into consciousness. When he was nearly there, head shifting and eyes beginning to flutter, Stiles leveraged himself onto the mattress, trying not to jostle it too much as he squatted over his father’s cock, one hand bracing himself, the other holding it at the right angle. As his dad’s eyes began to open, Stiles took a breath and lowered himself down, feeling the tip breach him, his own eyes fixed on his dad. He didn’t fight the moan this time as he let gravity do the work for him, sinking all the way down just as his dad’s eyes opened fully, a low moan mirroring his coming from John.

“Morning daddy.” Stiles’ voice was still husky with sleep and it dragged another moan from John, louder when Stiles flexed his ass around the thick cock inside of it. “Got an idea for today, think you’re gonna like it.”

John quirked an eyebrow up and Stiles couldn’t help but smirk, leaning forward and catching his dad’s lips with his own, giving himself over to a hungry kiss. His dad’s hands found his hips, squeezing them gently before trying to lift Stiles up, get him to move more firmly instead of the gentle rocking he was doing now.

“Morning baby. Someone feeling needy today?” John’s voice was rich and deep, and Stiles shivered above him, clenching down again.

“Not yet, but we both will be later.” John’s brows shot up in question but Stiles didn’t bother answering yet. Instead, he planted one hand on his dad’s chest and the other on the mattress behind him, between his dad’s thighs, the inside of his wrist just barely brushing his daddy’s balls. He began to lift himself and drop down as fast and hard as he could, feeling the drag and pull of his dad’s cock in his hole, enjoying the way his dad tried to rock up to meet his motions despite still being half-asleep. It didn’t take long until Stiles felt like he was getting close, and if the tightening of his dad’s balls were any indication, he knew John was getting close too. He raised and dropped himself twice more before abruptly pulling off, smirking as his dad let out a string of curses at the sudden loss of tight heat around his cock.

“Told you I had an idea.”

“You said it was one I was going to like, not one that was gonna give me blue balls son.”

“Trust me daddy, you’ll like it. Also, breakfast is ready, come eat.” John grumbled but Stiles just sauntered away, bare ass swaying slightly as he headed out of John’s room and down the stairs. He pretended like he wasn’t just as affected as his daddy, but Stiles could feel the throb of need in his own cock, couldn’t stop his ass from clenching in the open air, wishing he was still full. It would be worth it though, or at least that’s what he’d told himself when he had the idea late last night.

It takes John a few minutes longer to get down the stairs to the kitchen, and Stiles assumes that being woken with hot sex only to be left wanting had probably contributed to that. He fully intends to make it worth their while though. He’d plated up breakfast for both of them and pulled out his dad’s chair for him. John eyed him with suspicion but sat where he was prompted, soft smile breaking on his face as he saw a plate loaded with eggs and sausage and toast instead of a bowl of granola.

“What did I do to get real food today?”

“It’s more what you’re going to do.” 

“Oh?”

“I want to play today daddy. The supernatural has been quiet, you’ve got an easy work day, I don’t have school. We haven’t had as much time to ourselves lately, I miss it. Wanna take advantage.” Stiles thinks his dad might’ve tried to argue a bit about why they haven’t had as much time, but midway through his little speech, he’d straddled John’s lap and stroked him back to full hardness before sliding his ass down onto his daddy’s cock again, arms wrapped around his daddy’s neck and the last words spoken directly against his lips. John lets Stiles kiss him for a few minutes, not pushing for anything harder as Stiles rocks against him, his own hard cock brushing between their bellies.

“Baby, you know we’ve had to be more careful lately,” John speaks when Stiles finally breaks the kiss, and the words make him pout. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault your friends all have super noses now - we can’t have anyone getting suspicious.”

“Psh, none of them have noticed.” John’s brow quirks again. “Come on, you know they haven’t or they’d have said something. Even if they have noticed a weird smell, it’s not like they’ll figure it out. I doubt the first thought they’ll have is ‘huh, different smell, guess Stiles is fucking his daddy.’” Stiles smiles when his dad tips his head in acknowledgement. “Besides, if Peter the Pervert and Derek the creeperwolf haven’t noticed, there’s no chance in hell that the others will.”

And the thing is, Stiles says it with all of the confidence of someone who is sure that nobody has noticed, except it’s a complete lie. Peter’s calculating gazes always get more contemplative when Stiles knows there might be the lingering hint of his father’s come in him. And he’s caught Derek quirking his head a few times, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring. But he’s not about to tell his father that. Especially since neither of the nosey noses have said anything to him about it. And if they do, well, he’ll just remind them it’s none of their goddamn business. He’s happy with his dad, has been for years, and he won’t let anyone take that away from them.

The thoughts about it all race through his brain, but don’t show on his face, and since his dad stopped arguing, he rewards him with a few nice hard bounces before lifting up and resettling so he’s sitting sideways, impaled again on his daddy’s cock but at an angle that will allow them both to eat, which he encourages by dragging their plates closer and pushing a bite of sausage into his father’s mouth when he opens it, likely to protest Stiles sitting on his cock while they have breakfast. It’s something he’s been meaning to try for awhile, so he’s not gonna give it up if he can manage to redirect his dad’s energy to argue. Luckily for him, he does, and they eat their breakfast while Stiles gets to stay completely full of that daddy cock that he’s come to crave. Their plates are nearly empty when John leans back, stretching as much as he can with a lap full of his teenaged son.

“So, are you going to enlighten me about your plan, or are you going to tease me by only pretending to ride my cock?”

“Both.” Stiles smirks at the confusion on his father’s face.

“I wanna edge all day. Both of us. Want to get close and then walk away, over and over.” John’s pupils dilate, and Stiles can feel a shift inside of him, like his dad’s cock just tried to twitch. “Yeah?”

“How do you see this working? I have to leave for the station soon.”

“Well,” Stiles stands again carefully before swinging back to straddle his daddy, “I’m gonna ride you hard right now, right here. And when you’re almost there, you’re gonna lift me off. And then you’re going to get dressed and go to work.” Stiles starts riding John as he speaks, enjoying the flush of arousal he can see building on his father’s skin. “I’ll figure the rest out later.” Stiles’ brain is starting to liquify, the base of his spine prickling with the need to come, and he’s close just thinking about making them both wait. His eyes have slipped closed and he’s fucking himself down over his daddy’s cock harder and faster and he’s almost there, just a little more…

And then he’s crying out in frustration when a hand clamps down hard over his cock and balls, his father standing and forcing him to lift off or fall, and he’s suddenly so empty, his body throbbing with how close he came. When he gets his bearings enough to open his eyes, his daddy is smirking at him, clearly the winner of this round. His grip is still so tight on Stiles’ cock and he’s almost dreading the moment that his dad lets go and he has to deal with the burning need all by himself. He was right to think that too, because his entire groin gives a heaving throb when the restraint of John’s hand is gone, and his cock twitches almost violently when his daddy brushes his thumb over Stiles’ slit, gathering up a bead of precome and lifting it to his own lips, smiling around the digit as he sucks it clean before turning and walking away from Stiles, heading up to get ready for the day. Stiles almost thinks this might be a bad idea after all.

By the time John comes down dressed for work, Stiles has mostly softened and managed to clean up their breakfast. He stops what he’s doing in order to get his goodbye kiss, but his dad doesn’t let it linger or turn into anything more fun. Stiles pretends to pout but tells him to have a good day. He eventually makes his way back upstairs and showers, getting some classwork done ahead of schedule. It’s nearing lunchtime when finishes, and he figures maybe he should pop in on his dad, see how his day is going, have some lunch, maybe play a little more. He eats a burrito on the way to the station but gets his dad a salad, he’d already let him have bad food once today.

Stiles feels lucky when the desks nearest his dad’s office are mostly empty as he makes his way over, is able to shut the door and twist the lock without notice, quickly shutting the blinds on the window that overlooks the bullpen. John was on a call so Stiles just set the food in front of him, returning the smile his dad graces him with. Instead of sitting in the guest chair, however, he pushes it back and out of the way, crawling under the desk and setting his own soda off to the side. He can see the sudden tension in his dad’s legs, but he pays it no mind, running his hands up his dad’s calves and over his thighs, thumbs brushing over the crotch. 

He thinks for a minute that his dad is going to deny him, but there’s only a slight bit more tensing before his dad relaxes, body scooting further down in his seat, legs spreading open wider. Stiles grins to himself as he inches his hands further up, carefully and quietly unbuckling the holster and belt, knowing the position his dad is in will keep them from spilling to the floor at least. He spends another minute just rubbing over his dad’s crotch, watching his cock fatten up in the confines of this khakis before he pops the release on the chair, watching it sink closer to the floor to give him more room to work and then undoing the button and zip. He’s careful as he pulls his dad’s cock free, tucking the ends of his khakis so the zipper is covered by cloth, and then he’s shifting as much onto his knees as he can get beneath the desk.

Stiles’ mouth is watering again just like it was this morning, and he doesn’t waste any time gliding his mouth over his dad’s cock, swallowing down every exposed inch of it, feeling the head slip into his throat from the angle. He constricts his throat a few times, enjoying the shift in his dad’s breathing, even as he does his best to maintain the conversation he’s having. Stiles twists his head as he starts to bob up and down, sucking and swirling his tongue, feeling the tense and release of his dad’s thighs as they bracket him. He gets a good rhythm going, can tell his dad is struggling by the time he finally hangs up with whoever he’d been talking to.

“Jesus kid, fuck. That was the deputy mayor I had to talk to. You’re gonna get me fired if you’re not careful.” Stiles would worry, but he knows his dad would’ve stopped him if it had been a real problem, so he just keeps bobbing up and down, making an encouraging noise when his dad’s hands snake down beneath the desk and bury in his hair. He likes the sharp tug when his father’s grip tightens to hold his head in place, likes the way his throat tightens when his dad starts to fuck his face, cockhead slipping into his throat on every other thrust. He scrapes his nails over his dad’s thighs through his pants, feels the shiver it elicits, and then does his best to quietly slip the lid off of his drink, fingers dipping into the cup until he can drag out an ice cube. His dad’s thrusts are getting faster and deeper, and Stiles can feel the tension in the hands holding him in place, knows his dad is getting close as he opens his mouth wider. He’s probably got a few thrusts left before his dad blows, so on one bigger drag back out of his mouth, he pushes the ice cube in, getting it on the middle of his tongue just before his dad thrusts back in. He can’t help the laugh that bubbles up with his father’s cock glides over the frozen cube and John jerks back so hard that the chair rolls completely away from the desk. Stiles munches on the ice as he crawls back out, on the far side because he’s not stupid at all. His dad is glaring at him in betrayal and he shrugs.

“Told you I wanted to play.”

“You’re a little shit sometimes, I hope you know.”

“You love me anyhow.” And it’s true, they both know it. His dad is just mad because he was so close and the cold made his cock shrivel up like a prune instead of giving his balls the relief they’ve been craving since this morning.

“I do. But you’re lucky I didn’t yell and draw attention to us. Fix your cock before you leave.” John’s face is still grumpy as he tucks himself back into his uniform pants, re-buckling his belt and holster, but he nods a head at where Stiles has completely chubbed up in his own jeans, cock straining against his zipper because of the way his daddy had been fucking his face. He does his best not to let any of his touches linger as he undoes his pants and readjusts his cock so the bulge isn’t so obvious when he zips back up. He blows his dad a kiss, smoothing down his hair just before unlocking the door and heading out. There are quite a few more officers milling about than there were when he first went in, but nobody is looking at him askance so he figures they’re safe. He’s still got several more hours before his dad will be off, so when he finally exits the station after some small talk with his favorite deputies, he heads to Scott’s to see if he’d like to play some Halo or something for a bit, keep his mind occupied with things other than how his father might get him back for the ice cube trick later. For once, Scott is actually free, so it works out quite nicely if he says so himself. And when Scott’s nose doesn’t even twitch as he greets Stiles, he has his inkling confirmed that the puppies really don’t have any clue what’s going on between him and his dad.

Stiles maybe, just a little bit, loses track of time as he and Scott play video games and catch each other up on their weeks. It’s not that they haven’t seen one another, but junior year has been busy and they don’t have all that many classes together anymore, so they don’t get as much in-school time as they used to. And it’s not like Stiles can begrudge Scott the time he’s been spending with Allison outside of school, because Stiles knows exactly what it’s like to have someone you want to be touching who also wants to be touching you and wanting to spend as much time as you can with them. Even after 6 years, that’s how he still feels about his dad. So, he wasn’t watching the clock and when he finally does catch sight of it, he swears and tosses down his controller, hunting for his shoes and hoodie.

“Hey man, where’s the fire?” Stiles glares at Scott for that analogy, knows he knows better when Scott tosses his hands up and makes a kind of ‘whoopsie’ face. 

“I promised my dad I’d make something for dinner.” And it’s not exactly the truth, but it’s close enough because he did have plans to make a nice dinner. Still something healthy, but a little better than the mediocre salad lunch that he’s pretty sure his dad tossed out anyhow as soon as he was gone. Scott just nods along as Stiles shoves his feet into his shoes, follows him to the door and waves when Stiles turns and tosses out a ‘thanks for today’ in Scott’s direction.

Stiles is taking a shortcut the wrong way down an alley on his way back to his side of the neighborhood when lights flash behind the jeep and he groans. The thing is, everyone goes the wrong way in this one-way alley. All of the deputies know it, hell most of them do it when they’re not on shift, and he knows he’s only being pulled over because it’s him and they all like to see how many nonsense tickets they can hit him with during the month. Or, at least, he assumes that’s why they’re constantly on his ass about every little thing. He’s pretty sure there’s a bet going and the winner gets the pot at the end of each month. If there isn’t, he’ll eat a hat.

He’s already preparing an excuse when there’s a sharp rap on his window and he thumps his head on the steering wheel as he cranks it down, apology beginning to slip from his mouth before the officer speaks.

“Out of the car son.” Stiles’ eyes go big and he turns his head to face his father.

“Dad, seriously?”

“You heard me, out of the car. You know this is a one-way alley, right?” Stiles sighs and rolls his eyes, unlocking the door and opening it when his dad moves back.

“Everyone knows that, but also nobody cares.”

“Well, the law cares. You been drinking today? Doing drugs?” Stiles’ face goes affronted, his mouth opening to argue back, when his dad continues speaking. “Up against the wall, legs spread. Gonna have to pat you down.” And just like that, Stiles goes from vaguely annoyed to one hundred percent on board for whatever the fuck is happening right now. He watches his dad glance toward both ends of the alley as Stiles moves to the wall, and he can’t help but arch his back once he has his hands planted and his legs spread, pushing his ass out. Firm hands sweep down the backs of his arms, over his shoulders, across his back. They skip over his ass and he can’t help but try to wiggle it a little, earning himself a sharp swat.

“Did I tell you that you could move?”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No officer.” There’s brief heat at his back and a mouth against his ear.

“Is that who I am?” His dad moves back again and Stiles swallows against a suddenly dry throat.

“No daddy, sorry daddy.”

“Hmm, better.” Fingers press hard against the backs of his thighs, dragging slowly upwards and over his ass, and he does his best to hold still. “Much better.” Arms wrap around his body, hands gliding up the front of his thighs, briefly cupping and squeezing him before the move to undo his pants, dragging them down over his ass until they’re straining against where his legs are too spread for them to go further. 

“Keep still or I’ll stop, got it?”

“Yes daddy.” Stiles’ breath feels choppy as the hands glide over his back and ass again, palms squeezing his cheeks, pulling them apart before letting them drop back together. “Dad-”

“Hush.” John’s voice has gone dark and raspy, and Stiles hears him shifting around, hears the pop of his knees, but then his cheeks are being spread open, squeezed tight as air puffs over his hole right before a tongue flicks against him. ‘Shouldn’t be rewarding you like this, you were such a brat earlier.”

John’s tongue flicks against him a few more times, the warmth of it a stark contrast to the cool breeze blowing down the alley.

“Got me almost there and then pulled that trick with the ice. I didn’t appreciate that.” Stiles’ dad can say whatever he wants, but the tongue pushing against his rim at the conclusion of his words belies how upset he is about it. His dad doesn’t talk again after that, not for a long while, all that Stiles hears are the slick sounds of his daddy’s tongue as it slides over his hole, pushes inside of him, the smack of lips against his ass, his own quiet whimpers. Every time he tries to shift back for more, his dad stops completely, draws back, waits until Stiles goes still. It’s killing him, even as he can’t help but whine softly for more, begging his daddy to just fuck him now, please. He thinks he’s about to get his wish when he feels his dad pull back and shift around. There’s a blunt pressure against his hole and his dad’s mouth is back by his ear.

“You think you deserve my cock baby? Think after that stunt you pulled in my office that I’m gonna give in and fuck you just because you asked all pretty?” Stiles nods, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth because it’s the dirtiest his dad has ever talked to him. He whines when his dad laughs. “Bratty boys don’t get daddy’s cock.” He says the words, but Stiles can feel his spit slick hole being spread open slowly on something. He thinks his dad is lying, that he’s gonna fuck him anyhow, until he clenches down just a bit and realizes that whatever is breaching him is uniform in girth, and much much harder than a cock.

“Daddy what -” Stiles doesn’t get to finish his sentence as whatever it is is jammed up inside of him hard, the blunted end grinding against his prostate.

“Now you can move. Wanna watch you grind your hole back on my nightstick, wanna see you work your prostate on it baby. Come on, show daddy you deserve his cock. If you come, you won’t get it - so you better not lose control.” Stiles shudders, his cock throbbing as he starts to work himself back and forth, grinding against the nightstick every time it hits his prostate. His cock is leaking and his body is twitching and it’s maybe only a couple of minutes before he’s shuddering each time he pushes back and takes it further in. He’s getting too close to the edge, is having trouble controlling his movements, and he has to bite his fist to muffle a cry when he pushes back too hard and the nightstick hits him with enough force to nearly push the orgasm out of him. It takes everything in his willpower to pull off completely, one hand dropping away from the wall to wrap around himself and push himself back from the edge.

“Good boy, turn around.” Stiles does, his body feeling weirdly hot and floaty, and is surprised at how undone his father looks, eyes kinda wild and hair messy, like he was running his fingers through it. There’s a question in his gaze, and Stiles nods at him, carefully dragging his pants back up and taking the nightstick from his father to wipe on his shirt. He opens his mouth willingly to the kiss when it comes, his dad’s tongue tasting like his ass and making his cock twitch where it’s still hard in his pants. He can feel the bulge of his dad’s erection against his thigh, resists the urge to grind against it, knows they’re both far too close to the edge for any more playing right now. He’s feeling more and more like himself as the minutes drag on and their kiss deepens. When his dad pulls back and rests his forehead against Stiles’, one warm palm coming up to cup and rub against his cheek, he lets out a shuddery breath.

“Okay Stiles?”

“Yeah, that was...yeah. I’m good. You?” John lets out a relieved sounding breath before he answers.

“It was good. I have to get back to patrol, you gonna be okay to drive home?” At Stiles’ nod, John leans forward, presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Okay son, see you in a couple more hours.”

“See you then.” Stiles watches his dad make his way back to the patrol car on slightly shaking legs, thinks maybe they need to start talking about expanding their kink knowledge, because that was a lot more intense than he thinks either of them expected it to be. But that would be a conversation for later. He gets back in the jeep, smiling into the rearview when his dad waves as Stiles gets the engine to turn over and heads towards the end of the alley. He’s surprised that they had it to themselves for as long as they did, but figures maybe folks saw the cruiser and just decided to skip by it - they probably had enough coverage from the dumpsters at the end that they themselves weren’t visible. At least he hopes so.

He makes a simple dinner when he gets home, whole wheat pasta with some homemade sauce that was lower in sodium but still flavorful enough to not be a chore to eat. When the noodles were ready, he dumped them into the sauce and set it all to a low simmer before setting the table and then slumping down in a chair to wait. His cock really hadn’t softened since the alley, so he played with it idly, not aiming to get off at all. He’s more than ready to finish this game by the time he hears the cruiser pull into the garage, and he quickly stands, kicking his pants off and under the table, moving to the end closest to the door that leads from the garage and bending himself over it, pulling his cheeks apart as he shifts impatiently, showing off his glistening hole, still wet from the lube he fingered into himself in anticipation of this.

“Fuck, Stiles.” His daddy’s voice is a deep growl when he finally opens the door and sees Stiles spread out and waiting for him, and there’s a couple of thuds as he removes his holster and belt and drops them down. The sound of his daddy’s zipper is as loud as the pants Stiles is now letting out, and the line of heat against the backs of his legs makes him whine a bit.

“No more games tonight.” John’s voice is firm and he punctuates it by shoving his cock in to the hilt.

“Mmm, no, no more. Wanna come, make me come daddy.” Stiles’ words shake a little as they come out, his daddy not even pausing for him to adjust before he begins thrusting hard and fast. The table is rocking, glasses rattling at the other end, but neither of them care, both too keyed up from the number of denials they’d had today. One of his daddy’s hands is wrapped over his shoulder, helping pull Stiles back onto his cock to meet his thrusts, the other is gripping his hair tight, pulling his head back and making him arch his back.

“Gonna make you come on my cock, grind your little dick into the table until you make a mess. Fuck, you were such a dirty boy today. Sucking me off at work, taking my nightstick up your greedy hole. I wanted to fuck you in that dirty alley, make you scream for me where anybody could hear. Fuck baby, I would’ve fucked you in the middle of the station earlier, almost did. Thought about coming after you, even after that trick with the ice, thought about choking you on my cock in the middle of the bullpen and then fucking you over one of the desks. Such a naughty boy, teasing daddy all day. I could barely concentrate on work, it’s why I tracked you down. Had to pay you back for leaving me high and dry. Didn’t expect you to be so needy too. Didn’t expect you to really do it when I told you to take my nightstick. Had to keep myself from sniffing it for the rest of my shift, wanted to suck the taste of your hole off of it, wanted to see you fuck yourself on it again too. Gonna have to do that again, see how many things we can fit up that greedy little cunt you call an ass.” Stiles can’t do much more than whimper and try to meet his daddy’s thrusts, his brain overloaded by the filth spilling out of his father’s mouth. He’s been on edge too long himself, can barely muster up anything before his balls are drawing tight.

“Daddy! Daddy daddy, gonna come, daddy!” Stiles’ whole body goes tight as his cock spits out his release, the tiny bit of space between his cock and the tabletop getting tacky in seconds with come. The way he tightens down on his daddy’s cock has John shouting too, thrusts going erratic for a few seconds before he slams in hard one last time, hips grinding as he spills inside of his son. It takes longer than normal for them both to finish spurting out their releases, for their breathing to slow and begin to even, and then John is leaning against Stiles’ back, head rolling over his shoulder blades.

“You’re gonna be the death of me kid.”

“Not anytime soon I hope.” They both laugh a little breathlessly at that before John groans and straightens, pulling out and stepping back so Stiles can lift himself off the table, face twisting into a grimace at the mess he’s made in the wood. No amount of cleaning is going to completely erase the smell, and he hopes the wolves in his life continue to be oblivious. “I, uh, made dinner.” His dad snorts but nods his head to the pot, pulling his khakis back up while Stiles drags his pants out from under the table and back on.

“Okay, let’s eat and then we can talk about today. As good as that felt, we need to set some boundaries.” Stiles knew that was going to be coming, can’t even blame his dad for that being the first thing he thinks of once his brain is no longer addled by a need to come, so he just dishes them each up a plate and flops into a chair, smiling when his daddy leans over to kiss him softly before they start to eat. His dad is going to be right anyhow, today was fun but they took too many risks for as careful as they’ve been over the years, for the first time in forever, he thinks boundaries might not be a bad idea.

**Author's Note:**

> Come prompt me on [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/dirtyknots).  
All of my additional contact information can be found on my [Profile Page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyKnots/profile)!


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